


A Pirate Christmas

by WitchRavenFox



Series: A Sherlockian Christmas Collection [8]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Gen, Kidlock, Pirate Sherlock, Siblings, Swordfighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 23:55:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchRavenFox/pseuds/WitchRavenFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles around characters in Sherlock over various Christmas seasons spanning many years. Not tied to any one verse, although there may be some overlaps. Some suggested slash/het/possible femme slash inside, with romance, friendship, family scenes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Pirate Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Hi guys, I am sorry for my little absence, but RL decided to intervene, so here is a quick fix to get the ball rolling again. Remember - reviews are like gorgeous Christmas cookies or Christmas stockings for of love. ;) RF
> 
> This chapter is for ganja-chan who has expressed a liking for a young pirate Sherlock.

Sherlock sat in a brown leather arm-chair that dwarfed him at the tender age of seven, it was early Christmas morning and Mycroft had already ensured that breakfast was being prepared by their beloved house-keeper. Breakfast meant smoked salmon and cream cheese on muffins that Sherlock would pick at while Mycroft urged him to try just a little more, his appetite as a child being so similar to his future self.

Mycroft handed Sherlock a present - from Mummy by way of Santa - and he tore into the red paper with glee and bubbling theories until he got to the box in the center.

"What is it, Mycroft?" Sherlock whispered, shaking the box to see if it rattled.

"Well, you almost have it open, why don't you find out, little brother."

Sherlock glanced at Mycroft on the floor in front of him before puncturing the box and tearing off the lid. He took out the toy reverantly, slowly, so slow that Mycroft almost urged him to go faster, even though he knew what was contained within.

"It's my very own pirate ship! Mycroft, Santa got me my pirate ship! That's just what I wanted, it was on the list I sent him and everything." Sherlock jumped up with glee into Mycroft's arms, who held him in a hug before ruffling his unruly curls.

"Santa always tries his best to get what he can from the list. Maybe in the future you'll get a real sailing ship of your own. But remember that piracy is technically illegal." Mycroft smiled looking into his brothers happy pink face.

Sherlock went in search of his next present then, ship in hand with helpful care tips abandoned and forgotten in the box. He picked up the longer and slimmer box in silver and green and shook it to until it rattled.

"You'll like that one, Lock. I asked Santa for it on your behalf."

Sherlock's eyes went round once he had torn through the box and held a play sword by the hilt. It was long, looked silver in the right light and was not made of plastic but some light dull metal - by Mycroft's specific request. "It looks amazing, Mycroft. Where do you think that Santa got it?"

"Elves?" Mycroft shrugged nonchalantly, watching Sherlock place his hand correctly.

Sherlock waved it experimentally from side to side before lunging deeply. "It's not heavy at all, I can't wait to use it against someone."

Mycroft grinned and pulled a sword like his brothers from behind the chair, and twirled it in hand. "I shall teach you the basics, Sherlock. Then you can battle with any pirate you wish. It's basically fencing, and we start like this."

Mycroft took starting position and urged Sherlock to mirror him before walking him through the first steps. Sherlock's blue eyes lit up at the challenge and attack the British Empire representative with gusto, and they fought for what felt like hours.

Later, when they sat at the table eating, Sherlock looked pensive for a while and chewed his lip before he spoke. "Mycroft? Do you think that I'll get a skull and crossbones next year if I ask? A real one?"

Mycroft shifted in his chair, imagining the uproar from their parents versus the look of excitation on Sherlock's face, knowing which he would prefer and smiled while he ruffled Sherlock's curls. "Let's see what happens through the year, yes?"

 


End file.
